ROYAL ROCK(149)

But the second man spotted him as he fell, ruining my plan.

“Levi?” he yelled out. I heard his boots pounding on the metal as he ran over.

Good enough. I put two bullets in him, too, sending him careening against the railing.

“Hey, what’s going on?” the guard by the door yelled.

I went back down the steps and braced myself on one knee, facing the warehouse floor. The third guard came into sight, and I fired, hitting him in the chest but only wounding him.

“Fuck!” he yelled and opened fire. The sound of automatic gunfire filled the room.

So much for stealth. I moved, getting a better angle on him, and put another two bullets in him, putting him down for good. I ran toward the door in the back just as two more men came out.

I shot the first one, killing him instantly. The second one was faster, kicking my hand, making me lose my grip on the gun. My knife was out in my other hand in a second, flashing out at him. He ducked back, trying to get his pistol from his holster, but I was on him. We toppled into the back room as I plunged my knife into his neck.

I looked up and saw a series of doors, plus another guard. I rolled, pulling the body of the man I had stabbed on top of me as the guard opened fire. He missed for the most part, and the other bullets were thankfully stopped by the body’s own vest.

I pulled the gun from the man’s holster and returned fire, hitting the guard in the head. He dropped, and I rolled out from under the body.

These men weren’t normal locals. The more I looked at them, the more I was sure that they were hired muscle. I pulled up the sleeve on the arm of the man at the far end of the room and confirmed my suspicion: no tattoo.

I didn’t mind killing those who made murder their business. Sure, I was a lot like them, except I fought for freedom. They fought for the highest bidder.

I listened for a moment but caught no more sounds. Cautiously, I pushed open the door the guard had been standing in front of.

Gagged and bound to a chair in the middle of the room was Claire.

I had to control myself. I wanted to run right in, but I knew it could be a trap. I slowly moved inside, checking the corners. Claire’s eyes were wide, and I could tell she was trying to say something. I pulled the gag from her mouth.

“The mirror! He’s in there!”

I looked up and saw the mirror, obviously a one-way window.

“Stay here,” I said to her, and then I shot the window.

It shattered. I saw flashes of bodies scattering inside, and I quickly pursued them, jumping in through the shattered glass.

I could feel shards shove themselves into my skin as I came up in a quick rolling stop, but I didn’t care. I had one mission and one mission only: stop the Broken Hearts. I was fully in the throes of my blood lust, and nothing could stop me. Rage and anger swirled through my body, and I couldn’t think about anything except for finishing what I had started.

I went out the only door and saw them running away ahead. I followed, not bothering to call out.

Up ahead, I turned a corner and came to a screeching halt. Standing at the end of the hall were three men: Joshua, a man I recognized as Al, and Tommy, the man that ran the boat touring company.

Joshua was frantically trying to unlock the door in front of them as I slowly advanced, gun held out.

“Stop,” I said softly.

All three men looked at me and put their hands in the air. None of them were armed.

“This ends here,” I said.

“Okay. Okay. We’re done,” Joshua said. “Nobody has to die.”

“Your hired goons are all dead.”

“They were scum anyway.”

“You took Claire.”

Joshua was quiet for a second. “It was just business, Nathan. Only business.”

I clenched my jaw.

“Listen to him, son,” Tommy said, stepping forward. “It’s going to be okay. We only wanted to scare Mister Forester. We would never actually hurt the girl.”

“You told the pirates where to find us,” I said to him.

He nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry about that.”

I quickly took aim and shot him once. His knee exploded, and he collapsed onto the ground in agony.

I quickly aimed back at the other two. Their eyes were wide with shock and fear.

“Why Claire?” I asked. When neither of them answered, I yelled my question again.

“Motivation,” the man named Al said quickly. “Forester doesn’t care about anything but his money and his daughter.”

“What was your plan?”

“Blackmail. Get him to drop out of the deal in exchange for his daughter.”

I looked at Joshua. “Who are the Broken Hearts?”

He cringed. “We’re an old fraternity, a secret society. Or at least we were. Now we’re more like the local mafia.”